Page 10 of Daddy’s Firm Hands (Saddle Up)

“Picture it, Milo. Lucky has some girl in the barn over there–” Stew points to the tall, brick colored barn halfway between the bunkhouse and the main house– “And Doc goes in there at the asscrack of dawn…only to see this one’s ass crack while he’s riding her like a wild mare.”

I choke on my water while the guys howl with laughter. Lucky pats my back as he smirks.

“He thought making me walk out naked in front of all the ranch hands would shame me. So I strutted out there, hanging my hat off my hardy and waving at everyone,” Lucky continues.

“Yeah, and when it fell off, you made sure to bend over with your legs nice and wide so we could all see your asshole,” Flynn sighs. “And the bite marks all over your ass cheeks…”

“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” Lucky’s smirk turns into a full fledged grin. “But since I’m not a gentleman, you can read all about it in the Ironhide Monthly Newsletter.”

I hope this is a real thing he writes and circulates around the ranch. Because I’d read the shit out of it.

“Your smutty newsletter better not end up in my mailbox again,” a familiar raspy voice says from the other side of the campfire.

Stone isn’t wearing a hat, and the scattered grey in his dark hair shimmers in the firelight.

He isn’t smiling, his face hard as stone as the flame’s shadows dance across it.

His eyes hone in on me, then on how Lucky’s foot is touching mine.

I didn’t realize how close together we were sitting.

The entire group goes quiet, as if he sucked all the air out of the room.

“It may be the beginning of the weekend, but y’all have maintenance chores to do tomorrow. It’s time to turn in. Make sure you put the fire all the way out.”

Everyone starts to disperse. Stew gets a bucket of water from a nearby stable, extinguishing the fire. A couple of the other hands pick up bottles of beer and random snacks scattered around. Everyone says goodbye to me before heading to their respective bunkhouses.

“Did you have a good time?” Lucky asks, in no rush to get up as he leisurely stretches his legs out, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah, the most fun I’ve had in a while,” I admit.

“Good, you need it. I can tell you’ve been through something. If you ever need an ear to talk to, you know how to find me.”

I nod, even though I’ll never take him up on his offer. The less he knows, the better. It’s better for everyone’s safety if I pack my old life away and lock the key.

He gives me a hug before getting to his feet, and waving to Stone across the fire pit.

“Good night, boss!” He shouts as he looks over his shoulder at me and bends all the way down before pretending to pick something up. Then he straightens up again and winks at us before skipping away.

I erupt in laughter at Lucky’s antics. Somehow he can be so deep and meaningful, yet so carefree at the same time. It’s enviable to live so freely, without looking over your shoulder or hiding who you really are.

My laughter dies when I realize Stone and I are the only two left.

His posture is stiff and unyielding as he takes me in.

He still isn’t smiling, his jaw tight. I’m tempted to make a joke about him messing up his dentures if he clenches his jaw like that, but I don’t think he’d find it funny right now.

“It’s time to turn in, Milo,” he orders, his voice rough, void of emotion.

Stone isn’t a man of many words, but his feelings are loud and clear—he’s angry at me. I know it as sure as I know my own name, like we share our own wavelength. I stand, taking my time dusting the dirt off my pants.

Why is he so pressed?

He had his chance to kiss me, but chose not to take it. He ignored me all day and blew off dinner. I don’t think Mr. Cowboy deserves to be angry at me, regardless of the reason.

“Milo,” he calls my name like a warning.

“That’s my name. I’m glad you didn’t forget it, like you did about dinner today. I was worried your mind was starting to go, old man.”

Stone stalks around the dead campfire and takes my hand, pulling me down the path toward the house.

“I’m getting really sick of your smart mouth,” he says, his strides quicker than mine. I have to walk faster to trail behind him.

“You don’t even know half of what this mouth can do,” I quip.

“You fucking brat,” he growls as he picks up the pace toward the barn. I’m not sure if I’m panting from the power walking or because I know what might happen in this barn…there’s a reason why the ranch hands call it the Banging Barn…

Stone unfastens the latch on the front of the double doors, throwing them open before pulling me inside. The moonlight illuminates the space, and I can see his chest rise and fall with his breathing.

We stand inches apart, staring each other down. I can tell that under his stoic, silent man exterior, he has so much to say.

“Well, I’m waiting,” I remind him.

He takes a step forward, our chests brushing together. The way he looks down at me with those icy blue eyes makes a chill go down my spine.

“What are you doing with Lucky?”

“That doesn’t sound like ‘Sorry I never called or texted you about dinner, Milo’, to me.” I cross my arms and turn away from him, because asking for an apology feels like some ridiculous shit a toddler would do. I may as well stomp my foot while I do it.

He slots his thumb under my chin, turning my head so I’m looking up at him again.

“So you got mad at me and ran off to see what Lucky was up to… Did he show you why the ranch hands call this the Banging Barn?”

“What does it matter to you? You had a chance to kiss me, but you ran off like your ass was on fire. Then you blew me off for dinner. For all I know, you could have been in here with someone.”

The very thought of him fucking someone in this barn makes me want to slice that someone’s fingers off and stuff them down their throat.

This level of anger is terrifying me because even though I won’t say it—I won’t even think it—I know why I’m about to demand he tell me where he was.

And I’m not sure I’m in a place to feel this way about anyone.

“I spent the evening in one of the pastures with the cows, convincing myself not kissing you was the right decision. Trying to shove down that part of me who wouldn’t be satisfied with just a kiss, who’d want more than a taste.

Who’d eat you fucking whole.” He says it all in one breath with an intensity that has me reeling.

“But you’re obviously running from something, Milo. Something awful you won’t talk about. I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he says. His fists are clenched, as if he’s battling with himself.

“What if I want to be taken advantage of? What if I want you to devour me until there’s nothing left?”

I run my hand up his chest slowly, stopping right over his heart. It’s practically vibrating in his chest. I run my tongue along my bottom lip, and as he eyes the gesture, I feel his control slipping.

Fuck it.

Is this stupid? Yes . Can it blow my cover? Yes . But I don’t care. Stone is right. There’s something between us, and I’m done ignoring it and trying to push it away.

We feel right.

I’m taking what I want. And what I want is for this rugged cowboy to throw his moral compass out the window. Then he can throw me against that barn wall and do whatever the hell he wants to me.

“There's darkness in me. Once I touch you, I won’t be able to stop. I’ll obsess over you and want everything from you, Milo. You’ll be mine.”

He weaves his fingers through my hair, pulling on the roots until it’s just this side of painful. A pure wave of lust crashes into me, making my aching cock leak. That should sound like a giant waving red flag…but it’s so hot.

“Good,” I whisper, grinding myself into him.

He backs me into the wall, then lifts me up by my thighs. His hands grip me so tightly I know I’ll have fingertip bruises there.

“I like it rough,” he warns me as his hands move up and dig into my ass, squeezing the flesh through my jeans and making me whine. “I’ll leave marks…”

I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling his head closer until my lips touch the shell of his ear. “Don’t take it easy on me, cowboy. I want your firm hands all over me.”

I bite his ear, and a deep groan rumbles in his chest. His hand collars my throat, squeezing slightly as his lips crash into mine. His tongue dives into my mouth, greedily taking over the space.

This isn’t a kiss—it’s a claiming, gluttonous consumption of each other.

With every frenzied meeting of our lips, we grind into each other, seeking any friction we can get. Even behind my boxer briefs and jeans, I can feel how hard he is as our lengths slot together. Stone’s lips move to my neck, and he sucks the skin, lightly pressing his teeth to it.

“Fuck…” I hiss, reveling in the sting.

He places me back on the floor and turns me around.

“Put your hands against the wall,” he says, his voice firm.

I steady myself against the barn wall with my hands, peering over my shoulder at his tall, looming form. He steps closer, running his hands along my belt before undoing it and pulling my pants and shoes off.

“You like getting your ass eaten?” He asks me.

“Mhm,” I moan in anticipation as he lowers my jeans and underwear, the cool night air hitting my skin. Without warning, he spanks me, the quickness of his hand lighting my skin on fire.

“You answer me properly, in full words when I ask you a question, city boy,” he growls before spanking me again on the other cheek, this strike just as hard. “Do you like getting your ass eaten?”

“Yes, I do,” I reply, making sure my words are clearer this time.

“With how hard your cock is, it seems you like getting spanked too…” he strikes my ass a third time between both cheeks. “Not surprising, with how much of a brat you are.”